


It will kill you nonetheless.

by TerresDeBrume



Series: Carry On My Wayward Son [3]
Category: Supernatural, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Hunter Tony Stark, M/M, Succubi & Incubi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-04
Updated: 2013-03-04
Packaged: 2017-12-04 08:10:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/708479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerresDeBrume/pseuds/TerresDeBrume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Love is a poison. A sweet one, but it will kill you nonetheless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It will kill you nonetheless.

_Swear you’ll do it. Swear now!_  
  
  
It’s difficult to remember why he promised.  
Maybe there were things he left along with his clothes that night, or maybe he just doesn’t want to remember. The blood though… the blood he still smells, rotten and clotted and swarming with flies. That, and the glow -red and pink, as it always is.  
  
In front of him Tony is silent.  
He always is when things go bad, anyway -they’re pretty similar in that respect. Tony doesn’t like to admit it, of course, but they’ve been hunting together for fifteen years, they’ve had more than enought time to rub off on each other, and now they share the same mask, the same coldness, the same harsh slit of a mouth when they’re angry. The same tightly closed fists when they want to cry, but can’t.  
  
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”  
“Exactly what I said,” Loki answers, voice distressingly easy to control. “Don’t come near me again.”  
  
  
 _I know what you feel. I felt it, too. But at least you got to have time with him._  
  
 _Five years! Five years is too bloody short!_  
  
  
Frankly, the brain works in mysterious ways.  
Not because it is still largely undiscovered by the scientific community -although there is some of that- but because even with everything he’s seen in his life (and in thirty years -twenty as a hunter- Loki has seen a lot) he still manages to rememeber mostly the best.  
He remembers the relief, knowing Tony was alive and whole, and then the franctic clash of tongues that was their first kiss. He remembers nights spent in dirty motel rooms fucking on every surface and screaming louder when the neighbors complained, beers shared on the hood of his green Gran Torino, handjobs in the middle of nowhere when they were forced to sleep in the car. He remembers victorious nights and ridiculous japes, and he remembers barfights when they’d been waiting for a hunt for too long and fingerfucking Tony in the toilets afterwards, making him moan and curse and threaten until he lost his words and he could do nothing but pant until he came and slump forward, legs giving out under him.  
  
The fear, the anger, the pain… none of that seems to matter anymore now.  
  
  
 _We’re creatures of the underworld, Loki! We’re not meant to love._  
  
 _But I do, Steve! I do love him!_  
  
  
Oh, how he loves him. Loki can almost feel tears of blood run on his cheek from the ache, the want in his belly, the pressing need to gather Tony in his arms and keep him close forever -or even just hold him and take the smell of his skin in for one last time, one last taste of his mouth before they are forever appart.  
But Loki promised. He will forever curse having to meet a man from Tony’s ancient life  _there_  of all places, will forever resent fate for not giving him, at least, the luxury of being selfish and letting Tony fuck him one last time before his inevitable demise came… but no. He had to meet someone who cared for the man as much as he himself does, and now he’s stuck.  
  
“You were useful all this time, I’ll grant you that,” Loki adds, hoping his voice isn’t too tight. “But it’s over now, and I don’t want you to come near me again.”  
  
Lesser men would burst into tears at this, fall to their knees and cry… Tony takes in a shaky breath, shakes his head, and on his lips float that self-loathing smirk Loki hates so much -he’d hoped he’d erased it for good, hoped it would never need to reappear, and yet here he is, putting it right back where it was in the first place.  
  
Fate really is a bitch, in the end.  
  
“I was a fool to believe….” Tony doesn’t finish his sentence, just spits between Loki’s feet and turns away, leaving the barn, the state and, most importantly, Loki’s life.  
  
Loki waits, trying to remember bloodied blonde hair and dying words, trying to tell himself it’s for the best, but none of this matters -none of this will fill the gap in the pit of his stomach.  
He falls to his knees, air burning hot in his lungs and bloody tears flooding his face as he wonders what possessed him to promise.  
  
 _Hurt him, Loki,_  he said,  _hurt him to save him._  
  
Loki wonders who’s going to be his savior.


End file.
